


Those we lost.

by Dangelin



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Dead Characters, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Why Did I Write This?, fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-06-08 13:11:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6856018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangelin/pseuds/Dangelin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson did nothing but fight. But then they realized they had more that one thing in common. Both of them have lost an important person for starters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know why i write this, i was trying to write some smut but then i really liek the idea of these two starting to really know each other. I don't even know now lol.

Jefferson was done with his work, which meant he had to return to his apartment, have some dinner and sleep. None of that seemed attractive at that moment. He stretched his work the most he could, he even started work due for two months in the future. He cleaned his office, his desk, he even cleaned the windows (which were already clean) and even organized all the folders he had, first alphabetically then by color and finally by importance. He was done. And he didn’t want to go home.

He tried to leave the building but a light stopped him on his tracks. It was almost 3am and he suspected everyone had gone to his house, but there was one more person in the building. Alexander Hamilton sat in front of his computer smashing his keyboard with fury. And thinking about that Thomas could safely said that everything Alexander Hamilton did was with rage. He talked with rage, he drank with rage and he even wrote with it. The little guy was full of it that any other emotion was incapable to live in his body.

Thomas Jefferson knew the reason behind this. Every single student who shared time with Alexander Hamilton knew about it. Even if Thomas Jefferson was two years older he knew about the big drama around the shorter man. His boyfriend, John Laurens was wrongly shot by a cop. According to the officials and the news, the boy was aggressive and was carrying a gun. According to the officer who shot him he was defending himself. According to Alexander Hamilton that was a completely and utter bullshit. John Laurens was innocent, and was killed because of his skin color, and ancestry.

For months there were marches, strikes, protests and interviews with John Lauren’s family and friends with the hope of get justice. But they failed. The police was free and John Laurens was seven feet underground.

The worst affected by everything was Hamilton. He stopped going to classes, and stopped seeing his friends according to Angelica Schuyler, one of the few real friend Thomas Jefferson had. Then he came back to college and started working extra hard, he graduated at the same time as Thomas and got himself a place in the same office as Jefferson. The guy was non-stop, and unapproachable. He was locked himself in a shell, and no one could take him out of it.

The only person he talked to, apart from George Washington (theirs boss and president of America) was Thomas Jefferson. But talk wasn’t the real word for what they did. They argued. All the time.

 

“So the rumors are true, Hamilton sleeps in his office.” Jefferson said leaning on the open door at Hamilton’s office.

“Jesus! Could you knock? You almost give me a heart attack.”

“If you aren’t denying that means is true? I can’t believe what your twitter followers will say about it, I can picture you already, sleeping over your desk like a hobo.”

“You spend that much time thinking about me over a desk, uh?”

 

Quick with the insults. That’s why Jefferson enjoyed discussing with the boy.

 

“Just when I’m done thinking about you sleeping under a bridge.”

“Ha, Ha, Ha.” Said Hamilton and returned to his works giving his back to Jefferson.

“Is that all? Sarcastic laugh and done?”

“What else do you want?” he asked but returned his attention to Jefferson. “How can I keep pleasing his majesty?”

“Go home Hamilton. You can't keep wasting light.”

“I’ll pay.”

“You can’t really sleep here.”

“I won’t! I just need to finish this.”

“You probably already finish it. You probably already finished all your other assignments.”

“I haven’t finished all, there’s one paper I need to write for October and…”

“You need to go home Hamilton!”

“I can’t go home!” He screamed.

 

It wasn’t weird to hear Alexander Hamilton scream, he did that a lot in the middle of cabinet’s battles, and every time Jefferson poke on him extra hard. But it was weird to see him cry. He never do that, not even at John Lauren’s funeral he cried. Jefferson was there accompanying Angelica Schuyler and he remembered how broken he looked but how dry he was too.

Now Hamilton was crying. And it wasn’t a surprise to realize that he cried with fury too. He was agressively smacking the tears way.

 

“I can’t go to home because it's too quiet!” The tears were still streaming down his cheeks. “Is too fucking quiet there, and then there’s just me and my stupid thoughts. I can’t stand it.”

“And its better being here all alone?”

 

Jefferson wasn’t going to comfort Hamilton, because he didn’t know how to. Being rude with him was all that he could accomplish. That seemed to work because the boy stopped crying, and now was staring at Jefferson like he did when they started an argument.

 

“Yes it is actually. New York is a loud city and here I can hear the traffic.” And they could indeed.

 

They lived in the big apple and it wasn’t a lie to say it was a city that never slept. There were always people walking on the streets, streets musicians playing trying to earn some bills, cars moving from one way to another. It was as loud as it could get. Until that moment Jefferson noticed that Hamilton’s windows were open. Music came towards the office and for a couple of minutes Hamilton and Jefferson listened to a saxophone.

 

“Tomorrow we have the most important meeting of the year. You need to sleep.”

“With a coffee I’ll be fine.” Alexander said without giving up his stubbornness.

“No you won’t. Let’s go.”

“I’m not going to my place.”

“Fine, then you’ll come with me.”

 

He didn’t knew why he said those words. And he kept replaying them once again and again in his head while driving towards his apartment. Alexander had agreed after a couple of awkward minutes, and now he was sitting at the copilot seat playing with his hair, which was hanging lose over his shoulders. Jefferson kept looking at Alexander every time he thought it was safe to take his eyes from the road.

Alexander wasn’t a handsome man. Just by his appearance was impossible to understand why he have so much luck with the ladies, and the guys too. Every date Alexander Hamilton got was hot, he got himself involved with Eliza Schuyler, Maria Reynolds, Marquis de Lafayette and, obviously, John Laurens. And the whole list was bigger than that, at every party he got at least two more people drooling over him. He was short, with long hair, a beard and black eyes. He wasn’t special, but Jefferson had talked with him so many times to know that was his brain the most attractive thing.

Alexander could talk for hours about the U.S constitution and he would make girls faint, like a member of one direction when singing a love ballad.

But now, having him so close he realized that it wasn’t his brain the only attractive featured. He had gorgeous eyes, they were in a boring black tone, buy they were shining, especially under the streets lights. Shadows passed over his features but his eyes were always brilliant. Angelica used to mention his eyes all the time, when she had a brief crush on him. Now he got what she was talking about.

Hamilton was, strangely, in silence all the ride and didn’t open his mouth ‘till they reached the apartment of Jefferson.

 

“You do live in an apartment? I always thought that you live in a big mansion.”

“I do. I have one in Monticello. I got this like a temporary place to live.” Jefferson was saying while climbing the uncountable number of steps untill the seventh floor. “But then something happened and I couldn’t get myself another place. And no, we can’t use the elevator, I mean you totally can but you can experience some Final destiny on that shit.”

Alex was panting at the fourth floor, which was hilarious to see. That’s why Jefferson was in good shape, not because of a gym (even if he did hit the gym at some times), but because of all the steps he had to get through before reaching his floor.

“What, happened?” Alex asked trying to breathe and talk at the same time. “You have money, you can have a better place to live. Or you can fix the elevator.” He was sweating now.

“I like it here.” And then they reached floor six and he was ready to share the actual reason. “Like you said, other places are to quiet. Not here.”

 

He was used to all the noise coming from the different doors. One of his neighbors, a woman around his forty, had four dogs and they were always barking at ghosts. There were a recently married couple with triplets, and let’s say that they were born with incredible lungs. At his own floor there were two girls who just loved musicals and you never knew when they will break into a song. It was a relief to hear something beside his own thoughts.

 

“You don’t like it quiet.” Alex said like realizing something important.

“No, I don’t.”

 

They finally reached seventh floor. His door was like all the other doors they passed. Jefferson opened it and let Hamilton inside first, and closing it behind him he greet the boy.

 

“Bienvenue dans mon humble maison” He said in perfect french.

Alex didn’t argued about the French, that was a first because he always got angry at him and called him "a fake french", something that always got them into another fight. But his time, he was looking at the room.

It was rather small. There was a living room next to a small kitchen with a bar, then there were two doors, one was Jefferson’s bedroom and the other one was a bathroom. The living room was much decorated, everything was white, red and black. He had two read leather sofas with white pillows, a red and black coffee table, two chandeliers and five paintings aligned over the room. The paintings were confusing with vibrant colors and shapes. The whole room was vibrant and confusing, with some other decorations randomly hanging from the walls, like mardi grass masks and dream catchers.

 

“Why I’m not surprised that you have chandeliers?”

“Everyone needs a chandelier at their homes. Even if they have a compact apartment.”

 

Jefferson was already opening his fridge and taking the beers out. He had Alexander Hamilton in his house, and there was no way he could make it alive being completely sober. He offered one to Hamilton and he accepted, lingering around the couches unsure of what to do next.

 

“Just sit down.” Jefferson said taking a seat too.

 

Alex did and carefully took a sip of his beer, it was almost like he was trying not to make a mess. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, because at that moment jazz was booming from the apartment walls.

 

“There’s a band in the eight floor.” Jefferson explained. “They always play at night, they have shifts all the day just to pay the rent. They don’t have time to play at any other time. All the neighbors hate them for that, but I like the music so I let them play, and bribe the others so they won’t kick them out.”

“That’s incredible nice coming for you.” Hamilton said, sounding completely amazed by that. Jefferson laughed.

“You sound so surprise.”

“Don’t take it wrong, but you act like a dick most of the time.”

“Jeez, I can’t see how I can take that in the wrong way.” Jefferson acted offended, but didn’t have his heart on it.

“You know what I mean. You are always acting like an asshole, you say stupid things at the meetings and sometimes I can’t understand if you’re just joking or you’re talking serious.”

“I always talk serious Hamilton. You’re just too naïve to understand it, you think you can win every battle, but you can’t.”

“And I call that bullshit! If we don’t fight, then yes, we’ll lose. You can’t just give up every time I try to make our business grow.” Alexander talked moving his hands to make his point clear.  
“You act like a twelve year old, that’s why everyone agree with what I say.” Jefferson said. Beer forgotten.

“They agree because you talk with fancy words! That’s not fair!”

“You can use them too, you know?”

“I can’t! I’m busy thinking the best way to improve, I don’t know if you realize this but we’re running a real nation!” He always use that phrase, Jefferson was about to laugh but Hamilton added something else. “Even Maddison agreed with me more than once.”

The beer was no longer forgotten. Hamilton realized what he had said, he drank and sat closer to Thomas, all rage gone from his eyes and voice.

 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t meant to. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok.”

“No it’s not. I never got the courage to give you my condolences.”

“It’s alright Hamilton. You don’t have to, it’s not like we’re friends.”

“You did at John’s funeral.”

 

He did. They weren’t friends, but Jefferson wasn’t the kind of person that showed at a funeral without sharing his grieve with the most affected. He was surprised to know that Hamilton recognized him from that time, after all they didn’t shared classes at that time.

 

“I was there because of Angelica.”

“I know,” Alexander interrupted. “But still, you didn’t need to come to me. And I could do the same to you. I’m so sorry about Maddison. He was a great guy.”

 

Great was a short way to phrase it. James Maddison was something else. Jefferson was his best friend since middle grade, he learned the most important things in his life having him around. He loved his company. They used to play videogames, they used to ride their bikes everywhere they went, even if they had chauffeurs at their disposal.

For years Jefferson believed everything he felt about Maddison was friendship. But then he moved to France for high school, and there wasn’t a day without thinking about his best friend. The day he came back to Monticello he kissed Maddison. He couldn’t believe that James was feeling the same as he.

Then, he got sick. He was always sick, even since kids. But cancer was a whole new level. He didn’t make it, but still he fought for a long time.

 

“He was the best.”

“You lived here with him, don’t you? That’s why you keep living here?”

 

He did. The mayor reason he picked the cheap apartment was because Maddison could afford it. The moment he revealed to his parents that he was gay his parents closed doors to him, he didn’t have any dollar at his name and wouldn’t accept Jefferson’s money for a bigger place to stay. Jefferson decided to move with his boyfriend then. Between the two of them they payed the rent, bought food and furniture. Jefferson could’ve bought everything in one day, because his parents were more liberal and he still had his money. But didn’t. And he liked it.

He felt like a normal couple, buying things for his house with the man he loved. After Maddison’s dead he tried to sell the apartment. But he couldn’t.

 

“I get it.” Hamilton said after another drink. “I keep the same apartment I used to share with him. The sofas are still the same, and I can’t bring myself to sleep there, but I can’t sell them either. It feel like I’ll forget him.”

“But you won’t. We could never forget them.”

 

There was more silence, but again it didn’t felt crushing. The jazz music was relaxing and joined the men’s thoughts.

 

“Can I ask what happened to him?” Alexander asked very quietly.

“Cancer.”

“Fuck.” He drank. “Sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. He was killed unfairly.”

“He was.”

 

Jefferson realized a thing that moment. They weren’t arguing. It was a completely surprise because they couldn’t spend even five minutes without trying to get at each other throats. And it was good. They stopped talking about their past lovers and started talking about nothing and everything. They talked about their childhoods, Hamilton talked about the hurricane and about his mother. They talked about movies and ‘Do you really know all the Disney song lyrics?’ was answered by fifteen minutes of Jefferson singing Pocahontas, Mulan and the lion king with Hamilton beatboxing and laughing.

It was almost five am in the morning when Jefferson though it was enough. He brought some sheets and pillows to Alexander and went to his room, but Hamilton grabbed his arm before he was gone, and said:

 

“You’re not as bad as I thought. Maybe we could be friends now?”

He looked so sincere that Jefferson had to ruin the moment or he would kiss him in that moment. Something he couldn’t do, not with the ghost of what they’ve lost so fresh in both of their memories. Not yet.

“We can be friends the day you realize how stupid your congress plans are.”

Hamilton smiled and turn around to sleep.

Jefferson would never admit it at loud, but it was kind of cute to have Hamilton at his side.


	2. Moving on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time Hamilton realized that this whole thing wasn’t about him, wasn’t an invitation because Alexander couldn’t sleep alone in his house, but because Jefferson couldn’t either.

Alex woke at six am in the morning at the sound of crying. He was disoriented for half a minute until he recall sleep in Jefferson’s apartment, more precisely in Jefferson’s sofa. The crying was coming from the wall behind him, and it was produced by a baby, or more than one. Alex kept laying down on the couch, listening to the babies cry, then the sweet voice of a women interrupted the crying.

 

“Hush honey, I’m here, I’m here. Daddy’s not here but I’m. Can you go back to sleep, please?”

 

Alexander could picture the woman approaching the cribs, probably with an exhausted face and perhaps a cup of coffee? Alex could swear the smell of coffee came towards him across the wall. What time it was? Alex reached for his cellphone and found it was six am. The woman started singing a lullaby with the intention of make the babies asleep again. It was really relaxing, and Alex found himself woke more and more with every note.

He was never a good sleeper but realized that he slept really well that night, even if he just slept for an hour. It was a really good hour. He hadn’t sleep like that since…well since John. And it was in Jefferson’s company off all. Since John’s dead Hamilton had found many companies, someone looking pretty in a bar, or some couple looking for a “pretty bisexual man like yourself”, Hamilton didn’t mind what his company intentiosn were as long he was accompanied by a couple of hours. He hated to be alone.

He tried living with the Schuylers sisters, and for a while it worked. Peggy was the most pure person living on earth, Angelica was the wittiest and Alex could spend hours talking with her about politics and nothing at all, and Eliza, well Eliza was the problem. Alex knew the feelings the girl had on him, since before starting a relationship with John. Alex knew that the girl wouldn’t make a move so soon. But Alex knew that if he agreed the girl will be on his bed. And he wanted that so desperately. The girl was not bad looking, she was almost as pretty as her oldest sister, and she was smart too, kind and knew exactly what to say to make Alexander feel better. She was so much like John and that was the reason he couldn’t be with her.

Alex stood up, he couldn’t keep faking that sleep will come eventually. He started picking his things up, there weren’t much, just his cellphone, his jacket and shoes. He was about to leave but guilt pinned him next to the door. The woman at the other side of the wall was silent, but Alex could picture her in the room with her babies, exhausted but happy. Hamilton couldn’t left the apartment just like that, not when he had spent one of the best nights in a long time.

He approached Jefferson’s room and found the door open. Alex entered with his mouth wide open, not because of the sight of the secretary of state sprawled in the biggest bed he had seen, not because the shirt on said man was ridden up revealing perfect abs, Alex wasn’t looking, he could assure you that. No, his mouth open was caused because of the room itself, or more specifically the amount of books in the room. The bed was at the center and the walls were full of shelves, the books were piling over themselves occupying every space, and not just the shelves. There were books piled up on the floor, over a coffee table, over nightstands and peeking under the bed. There were so many books and Alexander was so temped to grab one and read it, just for the hell of it. Then Jefferson woke.

 

“What time is it?” He was squirming his eyes, the sleep still on his features and a strong accent slipping.

“Six am.” Alex whispered, suddenly aware that he woke the man after just an hour of getting to bed.

“The fuck man?”

“I’m so sorry to wake you. I’m leaving, I didn’t want to leave without telling you, like…” like if he was a random man that he used to fuck. Which wasn’t, in any way. “Again, I apologize. I’ll just go, I know the way out. Thank you, for, you know.” Alex was playing with his hands unsure of what to do with himself, he never talked with Jefferson without getting into an argument until yesterday, and it was still a weird thing.

“It’s six am Alexander.” Alex jumped at the mention of his name, even if Jefferson had said his name more than once the night before, around the fourth Disney song, but it was weird to hear it in the morning without a drink around his lips. “Just go back to sleep. The meeting starts at ten.”

“I can’t keep sleeping.”

Jefferson opened his eyes at that, stared at Hamilton and sighed exhausted. “You really work on coffee and arguments, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking.”

“Just go back to sleep, Hamilton.”

“I’m leaving. I’ll see you in the meeting.”

“God, we can share a ride, my place is closer to the office than yours.”

 

Alexander didn’t knew how Jefferson knew that, but it was true. He will probably be late to the reunion.

 

“All my clothes are in there, I can’t show up with yesterday’s suit.”

"You can borrow mine." Jefferson said, sleepy tone on his voice.

"I don't think that would work." Alex said laughing, because in what world that could work? Jefferson was tall, and muscular and slim.

“I’ll make someone fetch some clothes for you then.” Jefferson said waving a hand, as if that weren’t a real problem.

“You really can’t resist any opportunity to show how wealthy you are, aren’t you?”

“Really are you going to fucking fight me about that, at six am?”

“I…”

“Stay. Please.”

 

Jefferson had an arm over his eyes, so he wasn’t looking at Alex but Alex could see the blushed that crept over his features. For the first time Hamilton realized that this whole thing wasn’t about him, wasn’t an invitation because Alexander couldn’t sleep alone in his house, but because Jefferson couldn’t either. There he was a man he despised since the beginning asking Alex to stay, the same man who invited Alex at his apartment from the beginning, the same who sang Disney songs and bribed an entire building so a couple of boys could play in the night. How could he be so blind? How could he have thought that Jefferson was doing all that because he pitied Alexander?

 

“Okay, but I’m not sleeping in the couch.”

“You know what? You better leave.”

“No way.” Alex took his shoes out and without giving much thought of his actions he throw himself in the bed next to Jefferson. The man kept the arm over his eyes and wasn’t looking at him, but his body tensed up. “Move a little, could you?”

“You came to my bed and make _me_ move?” he grunted but moved anyway, just an inch away from Hamilton.

“You invited me.”

“Another thing I will regret my whole life.” He said yawning.

“That must be a pretty long list, considering all the stupid things you have said in the past.”

“If you’re not going to sleep could at least shut up?” He was looking at Alexander now, his hair wasn’t tied and was sprawling over his shoulder in a wild and suggestive way. _Sex’s hair,_ Alexander thought and licked his lips. Jefferson’s eyes followed the motion and he too licked his own lips, and why was this the first time Alex noted how full they were?

“I’m sorry. You can go back to sleep.”

Jefferson nodded, not taking his eyes from Alexander. Then he shook his head and closed his eyes, face still facing Alexander.

At six thirty Jefferson was asleep again. At Six forty-five Alex was reading one of the books he found under Jefferson bed. At six fifty Jefferson had an arm over Alexander’s hip and if Alex hadn’t moved away was because he was too caught up on the reading. At seven Jefferson had come to close to Alexander that he had burrowed his face on Alex’s chest, and if Hamilton started playing with his hair who could blame him? The book was good (surprisingly Thomas read YA books), Jefferson was warm and his beat was relaxing. Alex never felt calmer before.

He took a moment to realize that. He felt calm with _Thomas Jefferson_. The same man that could get on his nerves without saying a word, the same man that made Alex’s steady on the president cabinet a nightmare, a motherfucking democratic republican for the sake of God. He was everything that he despised, everything he would never dare to look out in a partner. He wasn’t anything like John Laurens, and maybe that was why it worked.

Hamilton was so afraid of forget that he had look for people that remind him of John, someone with freckles, someone screaming drunk in a bar, someone that will laugh like if his life depended of that. He was looking for John. And doing that his heart could never heal, wasn’t that the reason why he stopped meeting Eliza?

And now, sitting in a bed with Thomas Jefferson over him, he realized he needed to move on. Would that hurt? Yes. But he always had done the right thing, he survived worse things, he survived death in many occasions and he would survive once more. Was he going to survive with Jefferson at his side? He didn’t knew, but he would be a damn fool if he didn’t at least try something with the man. Because if he learned something that night was that he felt comfortable with him, no matter if they were screaming at each other or just sitting staring at each other. He feel right with him.

And honestly how could he keep hating the man after realize that he own the full set of Harry Potter, not just one set but three, the American version, the UK version and the French version. How could he hate someone that like Harry Potter?

Jefferson woke at eight am, he yawned and stretched his arms. He raised an eyebrow at Alexander.

“You have really interesting reading tastes.”

“Say something bad about Cinder and I will make you go to the meeting wearing only your boxers.”

“Wouldn’t you like that?” asked Alexander grinning. Jefferson blushed and threw a pillow to Alex.

“Shut up. I’m going to take a shower. Are you smart enough to make coffee without me telling you how to?” he asked raising up from bed, and Alex wasn’t disappoint of that, of course.

“Sure I can!” he responded not nearly as offended like he would’ve in other time.

“Then I’ll see you in ten.”

 

The meeting came and went. Alexander was wearing a new suit, bought by the secretary of Jefferson, Sally (Alex thanked the girl later). Jefferson looked mildly bored in the reunion but when he crossed eyes with Hamilton he smiled. Alex smiled too and the president will look at the two of them, but then will just shake his head, clearly don’t wanting to know.

At eight pm Alex was done with his work. He was tempted to go with Jefferson and ask, what? If he could stay with him again? Sure Jefferson didn’t despised him anymore, or not as much as before, but will he be willing to this? Whatever this was?

Alex sent a quick text to Jefferson, knowing the man was still in his office.

 

**To Secretary Jefferson**

Are you done with your work?

 

The response came quickly.

 

**From Secretary Jefferson**

Done an hour ago.

You’re so slow Alexander.

 

Hamilton burrow his brow.

 

**To Secretary Jefferson**

I DO have a real job, just so you know.

 

Did he heard laughter came from Jefferson’s office? He didn’t knew, but a smile played at his mouth. Jefferson answered and Hamilton could feel his heart in his throat.

 

**From Secretary Jefferson**

Care to take this conversation somewhere else? The band from the eight floor play tonight.

**To Secretary Jefferson**

Is this a date, Thomas?

 

Alexander wrote that sentence a dozen times, and why was he feeling like a teenage again? He decided to use the name of the man because he realized Jeff-Thomas had done that too.

 

**From Secretary Jefferson**

Wouldn’t you like that Alex? ;)

 

And Alexander wondered how he could live in a world where Thomas Jefferson flirted with the wink emoji. He smiled at that and jump in his seat when a laughter came from his door.

 

“Are you coming? Or you need more time to giggle like a high school girl over a text?” Jefferson said with a smirk on his face, leaning on the door.

“You’re the one who sent it!” Alex defended himself, because he wasn’t giggling.

“You’re so easy.” Jefferson laughed and left the office.

“I’m not!” Alexander argued but followed Jefferson. It was unfair that the man was so tall, because of that Hamilton had to walk a bit faster just to catch up.

Jefferson laughed but the moment Alex was at his side he stopped, turned around until he was in front of him. Alexander was taken by the fact that Thomas Jefferson was staring at him like never before. Thomas leaned closer, licked his lips and Alex closed his eyes, his heart was pumping so hard that he could swear Jefferson could hear. He felt the breath of Jefferson over him, and then he heard laughter.

“Weren’t you saying that you’re not easy?”

“Fuck you Thomas!” Alex said completely blushed, and he didn’t care that Thomas was blushing too, for the almost kiss or because the use of his name?

“Now, now, don’t use that vocabulary mister secretary.”

“Don’t order me.”

“Come on. It’s getting late.” Jefferson grabbed Alex hand and basically pulled him out the building.

 

If Hamilton didn’t protest about that, who could blame him? Take the hand of Thomas Jefferson felt right. And he had every right to feel that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were so many cute people reading the last chapter, and commenting that I had to make a second part. Thank you so much!


End file.
